


i was born to be your dead sea

by guidingkey



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Lost Love, Post-Canon, Romance, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guidingkey/pseuds/guidingkey
Summary: after years of being lost, ann takes some time to find herself. it takes longer than she imagined.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Takamaki Ann, Kurusu Akira/Takamaki Ann, Persona 5 Protagonist/Takamaki Ann
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i can't lay claim to the characters or concept, just my interpretation of them.

It’s hard to believe her third year at Shujin is nearly over.

Time really has flown in a way she wouldn’t have imagined during her first year. Ann is a different person now, even if she’s not always sure who that person is, and it’s difficult to remember the girl she was before everything about her existence had been altered and changed. She’s changed, evolved, but that’s just made things even more confusing. The only thing she knows for sure is that she can’t go back.

The girl who endured rumors without fighting back, the one who believed Kamoshida’s taunts and threats, the one who passively accepted her life, happy to keep her head just above water for as long as possible. As long as she was surviving, that was what mattered.

Ann Takamaki wasn’t that girl anymore, but she’s also not sure who she is post-Phantom Thieves.

Surprisingly, Ann’s desk is now covered in college acceptance letters -- it wouldn’t have been possible without Makoto and Haru’s help, really, -- and she sits on her bed with one of Ren’s jackets wrapped around her. She didn’t really need acceptance letters, technically speaking, because with her parents’ name and money in their line of work? She could fling that around easily and go nearly anywhere in the world she wanted, without a problem, even with bad grades and entrance exam scores. 

She’s still best in English, but with Makoto, Haru, and Ren’s help, she’s managed to raise her grades to be much more acceptable and look decent to universities. She thought, briefly, she may change her mind about everything. But she made a decision a while back (a few months after starting at Shujin if she was being totally honest with herself) and now she feels guilty about that and feeling as if she has to carry through with it. When she’d come to her conclusion back then, she hadn’t had other people and things to consider, but now she _does_ and it made her entire heart twist and ache to think about what she’s leaving behind. Friends, mostly. And… well. One person who’s inspired her in ways that she can’t begin to explain to him or anyone else -- and not for lack of trying.

Ren's a good person, so she hoped he could forgive her. Someday.

(It’s over dinner when she tells her mother her grand plans, sliding an acceptance letter that she got on her own merit across the table for her to read, sitting tall with her back straight.

Her mother studies her face and stares at her for a moment. “Are you sure?” 

Ann cringes a little, inwardly, at the way her mother’s voice breaks. Strange for a woman who was absent for most of Ann’s childhood, leaving her with a caretaker, and Ann can’t help wondering if she’s worried over losing her daughter or her chance to flaunt her daughter as a status symbol.

(Ann swears up, down, left, right she’ll never end up like her mother).

xx

March rolls in and that means graduation, something she wouldn’t have guessed was she’d make it to if she was being totally honest, but she does. Ren made the train ride to Tokyo for her and Ryuji, even.

Ann’s got her hand laced through his as they watch the rather chaotic scene around them. The ceremony may have been long and boring, but the aftermath was anything but. It’s a nice contrast to the typical uptight, stuffiness, of ceremonies and being in school.

After everything the school’s been through and the traumas her year had experienced, Shujin deserves happiness and celebrations, Ann can’t help but think, so the loud celebrations are a breath of fresh hair there.

The evening is spent with their friends, but that night, it’s just the two of them in LeBlanc’s attic. Ren’s key still works and Sojiro hasn’t done much to change his attic room. It’s still sparse, but it looks as if Sojiro has been keeping it clean and she recognizes the old decorations. It hasn’t been that long, she knows, but being a Phantom Thief also feels like a lifetime ago.

It’s also a lot quieter than her place, not to mention her parents were home and that was… weird. His bed is still a little too small for both of them to comfortably fit on, but they make it work.

Hands glide over muscles and she tries to memorize the way they ripple underneath of her fingertips and the warmth that radiates off of him; the feel of him on top of her, how their fingers lace together, and how their slow, gentle, kisses taste. She memorizes the look and touch of his face, all of the curves and angles, the dips and contours of his body.

It’s slow, gentle, and sweet, and her heart hurts at the idea of leaving him, but as much as she needs him (it feels like he’s saved her over and over again, ever since the first day they met), but she needs to fix herself.

Hours later and they’re tangled up together. Her head’s on his chest while he absently runs his fingers through her hair. The beat of his heart is solid and steady, a comforting sound in her ear, and they lay in silence before he finally speaks up. “I still can’t believe you’re leaving.”

She twists her head to look at him and lifts herself to place a brief, soft, kiss to his lips. “I can’t either.”

xx

A few weeks later, Ren’s the one to take her to the airport, alone. She had said her goodbyes to everyone else at LeBlanc and it was apparently an unspoken thing to give them the space to do this without anyone else around. They left Mona with Futaba, much to the cat’s grumbling, and took off.

As they walk through the airport, she clings to the strap of her carryon bag for dear life. They walk quietly and Ann steals glances over at him. As usual, his face is fairly neutral and difficult to read; he’s always been good at keeping his cool and composure.

A pause and she stops to look up at him. “Am I, like, really doing the right thing?” She asks, squeezing her eyes shut.

He shoves his hands into his pockets to look at her. “Does it feel right?” He asks in return, head tilted to the side a little. Ann still hasn’t quite gotten used to how intense and piercing his grey eyes can be without his glasses on and she wonders if he realizes, sometimes, that he’s basically peering into her soul. It’s not the answer she expected, she doesn’t know what to say, and she’s seconds away from bursting into tears.

It’s that feeling that makes her drop her bag, throw her arms around his neck, and bury her face into his shoulder. Take in the familiar scent of his cologne and whatever shampoo it is he uses. Her face is buried in the crook of his neck and she can feel one of his arms go around her waist. Ren pulled her in close, the other hand cradling the back of her head.

The tears come and Ann keeps her face buried in his shoulder until he moves the hand from the back of her head to her chin, tilting her face to look up at him. Ren leans in to kiss her and it’s so soft and so slow and so gentle. There’s something bittersweet to it and she’s _terrified_ , and she knows the last-minute regrets are normal and that this would be hard. His fingers gently thread through her hair, pulling her in close, and it’s a soft, gentle, promise, wrapped around the sadness.

 _Ask me to stay,_ she thinks. But he knows better than that. Knows her better than that.

His lips move to place a kiss on her cheek before their eyes meet again and he’s running his thumb along her cheek. “It’s the right choice,” he says. The way he’s looking at her somehow reminds her of the first time they really spoke after he chased her down in the train station and it’s all sorts of different kinds of hurting all over.

There aren’t many things that she’ll miss more than the way that he looks at her. He fumbles around in his bag -- the infamous Mona Bag, still in use -- and puts a small camera in her hands. She blinks and laughs through her tears. “A camera? Really?”

“Yeah... “ he nods. “Take lots of pictures for me. We can look at them when you get back. It’ll be like I’m there with you, but not. Thought it would be better than just your phone.”

“See you later, right?” She swallows hard.

He nods. “Exactly.”

But she still cries the entire plane ride.

xx

At first, she doesn’t quite know how to adjust, except for the obvious things: trading in high fashion for shorts and a sleeveless v-neck and heeled boots for comfortable sneakers; she goes days without taking a shower and she can’t remember the last time she bothered to shave her legs. With her above average height and shiny, golden, hair, she stands out almost as much as she did in Tokyo. She never bothered trying to fit in there, she gave up on that at a young age once she realized it was silly and pointless for her to attempt to do so. All of those efforts would have been in vain.

But, she’s still glad she never dyed her hair.

From head-to-toe, she gives off the air of money and privilege and she knows it. Gets more aware of it every single day; it’s not too different back home, sometimes, and the things people assumed of her back then seem to be the things people assume about her here as well.

Everyone takes bets on how long she’ll actually last; it’s mostly a joke, but it pushes her even further to prove they’re wrong.

She writes actual letters in her downtime, sends emails and texts, avoids proper phone calls because the sounds of peoples’ voices will probably be enough to break her down even more than she already feels. It’ll make her jump on the first flight home and change her mind about everything.

Ren sends her a sweatshirt from the university he’s attending. Most days it’s too hot to wear it, but at night Ann uses it as her pillow. Ren has the potential to do anything with his life, to go anywhere in the world he wants now that his record has been wiped entirely clear, and a part of her worries the places he may go may be without her.

He calls her one day and “I miss you” is the first thing that leaves his mouth. It’s enough to raise her spirits -- it does every time that he says it and reassures Ann that he doesn’t hate her just yet -- and it sounds different than the sort of responses her parents give her. But she knows they love her and it’s just a role reversal for them.

“I miss you too,” she replies.

They make plans for her to come home over Christmas and she finds herself marking off the days on her calendar, eager to return to her family, friends, and the feel of his arms wrapped around her permanantly. 

xx

Six months pass. Things change. They do that a lot these days.

Ann blends in more now, seeming more in tune with the people here and people have warmed up to her more than they ever did in Tokyo. She makes friends with another girl -- an American -- named Emma. She looks like Mika, but reminds Ann of Shiho or even Haru’s gentle spirit. They bond one night over drinks and talking about life, the kids they’re watching, and the boys they’ve both left back home. Emma is sweet and kind and it brings Ann a sense of comfort and easiness that she needs.

Letters from Ren still come, but they seem to get shorter and shorter each time. They play phone tag for weeks on end, but they can never seem to line up times that work for both of them and it’s met with apologies and she knows there isn’t meant to be any malice there. She also knows they both could be trying harder.

They’re both changing, but they’re also eighteen with a distance between them and a future that’s wrapped up in uncertainty. 

Emma’s the one to convince her to stay here for Christmas, away from the cold Tokyo weather, and after months and months of being attached to the beginnings of her new life here, with the people she’s now settled in with, it doesn’t take much to convince Ann to do just that.

She messages people back home that she won’t be there and knows it’s going to be the last straw and do some serious damage.

Ren gets his own letter but she doesn’t hear back from him for a month.

xx

The next time Ann talks to him is Valentine’s Day.

She supposes Valentine’s Day is a bit of a cliche, but she owes him this much. There’s an underlying bitterness in his voice that she doesn’t miss out on, even if she’s sure he’s doing his best to mask it, and it’s laced with happiness to hear her voice. She touches her lips and thinks about the last time that they kissed, slow and soft and sweet, in the middle of the airport when she was so desperate to stay right there in his hold. But even then she knew there was a taste of ‘goodbye’ to it that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Four months…? Right?” It’s like he’s reading her thoughts. It’s incredible they’re anything close to being on the same page now.

She bites her lip and twirls a lock of hair around her finger, giving a quick glance to Emma who is smiling at her and nodding in encouragement. _If it’s meant to be, it’ll be_ , she said with a laugh and Ann almost believes her.

Ann turns back to the phone and inhales deeply. “I think I might stay,” she says. Waits for shock, outrage, or the beginnings of an argument. None of them come and she’s only a little surprised, so she lets herself ramble on. “There’s this college here. I could still volunteer, take classes, and study photography.” A beat. “I really love it. Like, a lot.”

“You can still do all of that here, you know.”

A long pause and silence falls between them and it says all that Ann needs to know. She stops twisting her hair and inhales deeply. Maybe a little loudly.

“I don’t expect you to wait for me,” she finally says.

“What if I want to do just that?”

And, suddenly, there’s a lump in Ann’s throat that she has to swallow away. “I just… I feel like this is where I’m meant to be, right now. It’s the best thing for me. You understand… right?”

Ren sighs and it hurts her more than she would have thought. “I love you, Ann. But--”

“-- it’s too hard. I know.”

When they finally hang up, she feels like she’s never been so sure of a decision in her life.

xx

Before she realizes it, it’s her birthday. Hard to fathom it’s November.

It’s a small, quiet, celebration marked with a simple dinner and presents from home. In addition to a general care package and cards from her friends, Haru sends everything to make a boxed cake, and Mika sends a pair of designer shoes (it makes her laugh because, seriously, Mika?). Her parents send money. She donates the money to the foundation, makes a cake for the kids, and stuffs Ren’s unopened card into her makeshift pillowcase with his sweatshirt.

Her heart still aches, even if it was her decision.

That night, she cuts her hair for the first time in years because it’s too hot to keep it long now and she’s feeling burdened by it, weighed down, even, and it’s difficult for her to handle. She chops it off to her shoulders (it’s messy and uneven but right now she really couldn’t possibly care less) and when she sees the piles of long golden blonde hair at her feet, she lets herself cry. A little.

Change was coming. 

xx

Emma finds them an apartment in the city. 

Even though it’s a simple one-bedroom and they use lawn furniture instead of real, actual comfortable pieces, and Ann has to pick up a bartending job between classes and helping with volunteering just to cover the bills. She refuses to accept her parents’ money because its silly to do that when you’re trying to strike out on your own and forge your own path.

Ann really, really, really has a point to prove.

She and Emma sleep on the floor and the apartment is littered with cheap decorations, but it’s theirs and one day, it’ll be even more rewarding when they can afford proper furniture that they’ve worked hard to obtain.

It’s a far cry from living the life of a teenage model, daughter of fashion designers, attending private school and living well, but it’s her life. Thanks to modern technology, though, anyone she needs is a simple phone call away (even if her phone is cheap and the reception is crappy), and it’s a simple, easy, life compared to fast pace of Tokyo.

She doesn’t go home for Labor Thanksgiving Day nor Christmas. That’s what makes her mother call.

“We miss you,” the older woman says with a sigh.

“I miss you too.” Ann does, she truly does, and that’s what hurts the most. She misses her parents -- her former caretaker more, but still -- and her bed. She misses getting ramen with Ryuji or gardening with Haru or taking self-defense lessons with Makoto; she misses art shows with Yusuke and Harajuku with Shiho. She even misses Mika’s glares and the way the other girl challenges her, making their friendship an odd one.

There are a lot of things she misses.

But she’s trying to move forward with her life, to redefine her role and future, to be more than what anyone expected out here and she likes it here as well. That matters. For the first time, without outside interference, she feels like she belongs. 

“I’m going to have some free time soon, Ann. I’ll come out to vis--”

“Mom, no. You don’t --” Pause. “I’m coming home soon.”

It’s a lie and they both know it. Her mother doesn’t say anything.

xx

She and Emma are laying in their apartment one day, Emma browsing through Ann’s old, beat up, dying computer that’s scratched and missing keys and shuts off on its own while Ann scribbles in a notebook. “Ann, you’re really good at this,” she says, glancing over at her. “You’re incredible in front of a camera, but you have an eye for what to look at behind it, too.”

Ann looks up from studying and blinks at her. “Really? It’s just a hobby. I look better in pictures than taking them.”

Emma smiles at her and leans forward. “Ever thought of freelance photography? I know someone who would love to train you. I could give him your name.”

Raising both of her brows, Ann laughs. “ _Him_? You met someone? You know a guy here and I don’t?” She grins. “Since when?”

Emma blushes. “Shut up. Do you want my help or not?”

Pause. “I guess… why not?”

She’s spent so much time in front of a camera, after all, and barely knows the rest of the work. Wouldn’t that help?

It’s a very small, very big, decision that changes the course of everything.

\----------------------

It’s Mika, of all people, who shows up for Ann’s twentieth birthday. It’s between shoots and she has time to pop in and spare Ann the time of day. She’s grateful, really, for a familiar face.

(It’s a little weirder when Mika mentions, off-handedly, that she’s seeing Ryuji which… what?)

Mika stands in Ann’s apartment, lip slightly curled and nose in the air as she looks around. “This is where you live now? This is why you left Tokyo…?”

Ann’s smile is bright, going from ear to ear, and she nods. “Absolutely. Yes.”

Mika’s eyeing her up and down. “Come on, Ann-chan.” She’d known Mika would be judgmental; she’d always been hard on Ann, judging her, being disapproving of everything Ann was and what Ann aspired to be in her life. Now, though, Ann doesn’t care what Mika thinks. Hasn’t cared for a long time, really, if she’s being totally and fully honest with herself.

(She knows who to thank for that as well.)

Ann averts the subject by saying they should go out for drinks where she works. 

Mika orders wine and Ann orders cheap beer, running a hand through her now shoulder-length hair, eyeballing Mika. She’s the picture of perfection, as usual, styled from head to toe. Shiny hair, smooth skin, slim and toned frame. She’s the same inside and out and Ann wonders, briefly, how some people just stay stationary and stuck in place. It makes Ann a little sad to see.

Ann’s not even sure if Mika doesn’t quite mean to be the snob she is, with her fashion and nose in the air, so Ann can’t judge her too harshly. She’s not that person anymore, either.

“I saw Ren over holidays,” Mika finally says, bluntly, her eyes focused on Ann and trying to gauge her reaction. “He was with that Kasumi girl. They’re together now, did you know that?” She pauses and sips her wine, making a face. It was far cheaper than what she was used to having. “I knew he’d break your heart.”

There’s a sharp pain in Ann’s heart, a sort of stabbing feeling, that takes a moment to get over. “I broke up with him.”

The silence between them is long and painful as Ann rolls her beer bottle between her hands. It’s not quite uncomfortable, but it’d odd to not be bantering with Mika. And then Mika looks back to her, thoughtful and sad, her face studying Ann’s with an almost thoughtful expression.

“You’re not coming home, are you?”

Ann shakes her head.

Mika leaves and Ann knows they’ll lose contact as well, but it’s okay. They’ll find their way back to one another, eventually. She’d be upset too.

She lands the job that Emma found for her and her first real assignment as a photographer follows two weeks later. They’ve given her a partner and he’s a journalist from the states -- Lucas is tall, handsome, and from from a ‘good’ family, having gone to an Ivy League -- , but like her, he knows about rebelling against your parents and trying to rebel against a fate that’s been set in stone for you. When he finished school, he ditched the family fortune and became a journalist, losing ties with his parents.

They shake hands and Ann bites her bottom lip. His hand his soft and strong in hers as there eyes meet and there’s a feeling of _inevitable_ and _promise_ attached to it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time changes both everything and nothing at all.

All of it starts out innocently enough and it’s actually really touching. It makes her realize things she missed out on when she was younger and all of the things she never got to experience since she moved around so much.

Soft, ‘accidental’, touches and stolen glances when the other isn’t looking eem to happen on a regular bais. The more they talk, the more she realizes they have in common, and it’s been a long time since she really connected with anyone like that on any kind of level. She can count the close friends she’s had on both of her hands, no more, and the ones she’s really opened up to goes down from there.

But talking to Lucas is easy and simple and she needs that right now.

(He reminds her of Ren, in so many ways, with his quick-witted sense of humor, slight brooding and mysterious nature, and ability to take the lead so quickly and easily and to be surprisingly commanding. They look nothing alike -- he’s a lot more like Ryuji in that department -- but that doesn’t stop her heart from aching from familiarity when she looks at him.)

Things change one day when they’re on assignment and innocent touches and glances evolve into something more when he grabs her hand and doesn’t let go.

A piece they work on lands stateside, in _Time Magazine_ and it’s the biggest break, and best pay, she’s had so far and more money than she’s had in years. She ends up using it to buy a cheap mattress that can serve its purpose and lets him help her break it in.

Later that night, he looks over at her. Her thoughts are flying and wandering because he’s really only the second guy she’s ever slept with and it’s… different. “We should do this full-time,” he says. She lifts her head off of his chest to look up at him. 

“Yeah?” She adjusts her body to be a little more comfortable and yawns and stretches with a small sigh. He laughs and the sound vibrates through her and she realizes she’s missed being this close to someone, this intimate, and it’s more about that than the sex. Or whatever. She’s not sure what she’s thinking right now because her brain is all fuzzy and she’s still flying a little high.

(She misses Ren, but that feeling gets pushed away as quickly as she can.)

“Yeah,” he repeats. “I’ll be the intrepid reporter, you’ll be the fearless photographer, and we’ll take the world by storm someday. Just us.”

It’s a quick, short, laugh that escapes her lips, but he doesn’t notice how it barely falls from her lips. Ann had definitely taken that in a different way than he probably intended.

xx

Ann and Lucas stick together professionally and personally. 

She welcomes the convenience it brings and they both decide that a life on the road is something they’d like to try, so they leave town for that. Ann’s happier than she has been since she left Tokyo and has no regrets, but she’s not sure how to define their relationship or what she wants out of it, or him. A part of her realizes what he probably wants, but she doesn’t comment on it. Doesn’t want to ruin what’s going on right now.

She could love him, she thinks, and what they have is light and special and easy. It’s brought something soft and comforting to her journey and he really is one of the best people she’s met since coming here. But she doesn’t love him, sees every road block that’s in the way, and every warning sign that’s screaming at her to stop and turn back around for both of their sakes. The flashing lights that yell _danger_ and want her to reconsider.

Ann’s still not always good at listening to those warning signs.

One day, he finally asks her, “Why did you leave?” He’s laying in bed next to her, watching as she moves pictures to her laptop with its broken keys, shattered screen, and scratches that she’s still clinging onto even though it’s probably hanging on by a thread. She looks over at him and his arms are folded behind his head and it feels like it should feel like home. It doesn't. 

“Leave… where?”

“Tokyo.”

She puffs out air, making her bangs flutter, and sets her computer aside to give him her full attention. “I really don’t know,” she admits, flopping onto her back with her arms over her head, and arches her back as she stretches herself out with a yawn. He rolls over, pulls her close, and runs a hand through her hair. It’s getting long again and she idly thinks about cutting it off because, lately, the weight of it seems to be too much to her.

Luke presses kisses along her shoulder, stopping where her neck and shoulder meet, eyes fluttering to look up at her. “There’s got to be a reason.”

“... I wasn't supposed to stay,” she responds, avoiding the actual question. “I got here, settled in, and then I just didn’t go back. It never felt like the right time. It felt… right here. Like there’s something I’m still supposed to make happen, you know?” She bites her lip. “Does that make sense?”

“Of course.”

There’s a lot more she should say. That she never felt like she belonged in Tokyo, that she lost her way after the Phantom Thieves disbanded, that modeling and acting were something she loved, but she’d lost joy and fulfillment in it, that she knew she had to be a bigger and better person than a rich girl in Tokyo. It sounds stupid and selifsh because she had an amazing life she left behind, she had friends and family and someone she loved with every part of her to the point it made her ache inside now, and things were good then. She didn’t know what she needed, she still doesn’t, but she needed more than what she had; maybe that was all on her.

A part of her wants to tell Lucas about Ren and all the ways that they’re similar, how she misses Ren like a person misses their best friend and the one thing in the world that kept them standing on solid ground (and other than Shiho, isn’t he exactly that?), but Lucas takes that moment to pull her closer and press their bodies together, their lips catching in a deep kiss as she touches his stomach and chest. It’s their pattern, it’s simple, and she reconsiders saying anything about Ren.

She doesn’t call home for Christmas.

xx

When she turns twenty-one, she’s in a hotel with Lucas, on another assignment, taking on the world like he had told her he wanted them to do. She’s not sure how right it feels anymore. Ann’s sipping directly from a bottle of wine when he breaks the news to her, making her azure eyes go wide in surprise.`

“A job offer?” She asks, sitting up more. “A _desk job_?” Desk jobs weren’t supposed to be part of the deal, part of what they did. Freelance. He’d always talked about never buying into that other lifestyle and not selling out because he wants to be a reporter and tell real news that matters and not be underneath any boss. And now--

He’s still smiling brightly at her. “Come with me.” She chokes on her wine.

“... what? To the States?”

“Move to the States. With me.”

Ann shakes her head. “I… I like my life here,” she says, voice soft. “I like it here, period. I feel like I belong here”

He’s staring at her, smile faltering a little. “What life?” And then his smile falls completely and he’s running his hand through his dark, short, hair. “Why do you keep running?”

She glares at him and inhales deeply. “I don’t run. Not anymore.” She’s changing, evolving, and she’s learned to face everything thrown at her because she’s not sixteen anymore and she’s not completely lost with no anchor to hold her in place.

Lucas laughs, but it’s dark and angry, and she’s never seen him like this before. His mouth opens and closes, he turns away, and then he turns his back to her. “I love you,” he finally says. “I want you to want me. But I can handle it if you don’t. If I’m not what you want, fine, I get it. But you need to be honest with the both of us here.”

She sets her wine glass aside, breath caught in her throat, and he turns around to look at her. “I can’t,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Ann can see his adam’s apple bob up and down as straightens his back, and turns away from her again as she gently grips at the bed’s covers. She takes in a deep breath, avoids looking at him. It’s as if a rush of reality and acceptance washes over him; he’s accepting a reality he’s known for months and washes away any delusional dreams he may have built up in his own mind. “We can finish the assignment. I’ll get you home,” he’s looking over his shoulder with a sad, wistful, expression and it hurts.

“I’ll be fine on my own.”

He laughs again, but it’s bitter, and dark and he’s definitely not surprised. “Of course you will,” he says and the door slams behind him on his way out. She jumps.

Ann stares down at her lap, closes her eyes, and fights back a feeling she can’t pin down. It hurts, though.

Another year older, something else ending. She’s gotten used to this.

xx

She’s back in town a month later, looking for a job, hitting up Emma and moving back in with her. Emma’s got a roommate now, but she offers Ann the couch. She accepts because it’s better than nothing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ann shakes her head and smiles at her. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

Ann sighs and flops onto the couch, wonders if this is what failure feels like. If all of this had been for naught. If she’d made a terrible mistake.

“I’m glad to be back, too.”

Emma’s kept a box of her things and later that night, Ann goes through it. Birthday cards, letters, the shoes Mika sent her, Ren’s old sweatshirt. When she tries the shoes on, they don’t quite fit because her feet are calloused and gotten narrower from hours and hours of walking in less than ideal climates and pounding the pavement in hopes of finding the perfect shot.

No, she’s not ready to go home, so she pushes the thought down and locks it away for the time being.

Everything in the box gets pitched into the garbage except for the sweatshirt and shoes.

xx

When she cuts her hair again a few months later, it’s shorter than short -- it’s almost like Makoto’s -- and it feels as if a weight’s been lifted off of her. It’s too hot and she has no patience to maintain or deal with it at this point, but now in place of twirling, she’s picked up a habit of running her hands through her locks when she’s nervous.

Kind of like what she’s doing right now.

Her mother asks a question that punches her heart out of her chest and nearly makes her drop her (cheap) phone. “Did anyone tell you Ren got engaged?”

No, nobody’s told her, because she’s barely in touch with her old life anymore. She’d still think someone would say something, anything, but maybe they wanted to spare her. She already knows to whom, so that question goes unasked.

“No,” she replies, leaning her back against the wall. It’s hard to keep her voice steady and her head from swirling.

The older woman doesn’t seem to notice the change in Ann’s voice. “He called it off,” she goes on. “A few weeks before.” She laughs and something about it makes Ann miss her; it’s not a feeling that often came up with her mother growing up, but its been present since she moved away. “I’m surprised a boy like him would cause such a scene.”

Ann’s surprised her mother’s surprised, but remembers she doesn’t know him very well. Doesn’t know Ren tends be reckless, impulsive, and a bit of a showoff who moonlighted as leader of the Phantom Thieves.

She doesn’t think her mother ever figured out about her, either.

“We used to be that way too, mom,” Ann points out. “Remember?” She shrugs. “Things and people change, right? You and I are proof of that.”

“Used to be,” she repeats, sighing gently. Ann almost wishes she could make out what the older woman was thinking right now.

A silence falls between them and Ann thinks of almost weddings and finishing university. Thinks of Tokyo holidays and traveling the world with her parents because as unstable of a life it was, as much as she sometimes wished things were different, it was Ann’s childhood and the only thing she knew back then. For the first time a feeling of regret creeps over her and she actually acknowledges it, threatening to take a hold of her before she shoves it away.

“... Mom?” Her voice is breaking a little, tears threatening to spill.

“Hm?”

Ann takes a deep breath, bites her lip. “I’m, uh. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t come home for Christmas,” she finally says. There’s a sob building up in the back of her throat. She chokes.

“Honey…” Her mother’s voice has concern and worry weaved into it and it’s… new, really, but something only a mother could vocalize, Ann thinks, but unusual for her own mother. Ann doesn’t quite doubt that her parents loved her, it’s not that, but she definitely has trouble handling her feelings towards and about them. And then she sighs. “Just come home.”

“...I--” She stops. Can’t or won’t? Ann isn’t sure because the line is blurry now. “I have to get back to work. I love you.”

She hangs up just as her mother sighs and begins to say something else. It’s better that way.

xx

Ann falls back into old patterns and habits. She gets into classes, gets back her bartending job, and works with Emma for their charity work. With some luck, Emma’s friend sets her up with another job at a major international magazine.

She takes a photo of a refugee camp that ends up on the cover and it’s the proudest she’s felt of herself, she thinks.

Her freelance assignment turns into a full-time job and she’s assigned a job with an actual reporter; this time it’s an older man, wrinkled and the face and with grey hair, who somehow hasn’t been jaded by his time in the field just yet. He has a dry sense of humor, a warm smile, and they get along great. He teaches her chess, she teaches him what Finnish she knows, just because, and they bond well.

When she turns twenty-two, he buys her a new camera. 

The one Ren got her years ago has been dropped, scratched, broken, and fixed over and over again and she can’t bear to part with it. The new one is shiny, expensive, and beautiful and much more suited for her own position. Ren’s sweatshirt is still tucked into her pillowcase and the camera ends up in the drawer of her bedside table.

At Christmas, she realizes she’s been gone for four years. She hadn’t imagined making it four days.

She wonders if everything back home is like her camera, broken and just memories she’s now clinging onto for dear life.

xx

The next year starts with a job offer -- a permanent one -- and moves quickly. She and Emma move into what feels like a two-bedroom palace that makes the both of them feel like real grownups for the first time in a while. She has a steady job with enough college credits to graduate, finally, and she’s doing well. For the first time since she left home, she feels like she’s really made it and truly accomplished something wonderful.

One night when she can’t sleep, she sits at her old, broken, beaten up computer and starts to work on organizing and uploading pictures to it. She glances at the letter on her nightstand and rakes a hand through her hair, biting her lip, thinking. Thinks about home, thinks about what all of her old friends are doing, thinks about everything she’s done and who she’s becoming.

The screen grabs her attention and she starts the process of uploading photos, laughs, and bites the inside of her cheek, leans back onto her hands for a moment, and then peers at the screen again.

Every moment, every memory, of the past four and a half years has been saved under the same folder: _Ren_.

She bites her lip again and thinks maybe she’s ready to go home.

xx

Ann returns to Tokyo in the middle of winter. Hails a cab from the airport, makes her way home -- she’s really not up for attempting to make sense of the trains right now -- whimpers and whines to herself in the cold weather. She hasn’t been outside of sunny heat in years.

She watches buildings and skylines pass, watches people go about their business, and is suddenly reminded that, once again, she’s going to stick out of the crowd, especially with the deep tan that’s embedded itself into her skin.

When they pass Shujin, she inhales deeply, smiling sadly to herself. The girl who went to Shujin feels like a different person, someone not even connected to her now, and she’s not certain she’ll miss that girl, either.

She arrives home and approaches her front door it occurs to her, briefly, that she should have called home before she got her. Ann approaches the front door anyway and fumbles for her old key, sliding it into the latch. She’s surprised it still works and she sits her shoes and carry-on near the door.

The home is just as… bare as she remembers, things purposefully sparse and everything perfectly in its place. It’s neatly decorated like something out of a magazine or television special on beautiful homes. Ann feels out of place with her ripped jeans, muddy falling apart shoes, and frayed shirt amongst the wealth and privilege.

Takes a few steps in, followed by a deep breath when she sees pictures and evidence of her high school graduation amongst ones of her growing up, overseas and here, and Ann lets out a heavy breath.

“... Ann?”

She whirls around to face her parents, who look like they’ve seen a ghost when they see her face.

xx

Ann quickly changes into something a little more presentable, though heavy enough for the winter and comfortable, grabbing a purse as she hurries out the door. She makes the train ride to Shinjuku and slips into a bar she remembers from years ago. A meeting ground, of sorts, right now that she hopes works in her favor.

She sits on a barstool, swishing her drink in her hand, and casually talks with the bartender. Lala seems to remember her well-enough, or at least her name, and it’s easy enough to talk with her while she hopes and waits. She tugs Ren’s old blazer more tightly around her body -- it’s the warmest thing she owns right now -- before she leans forward onto the bar, vaguely listening to the people around her. She looks and feels out of place in the old shoes Mika sent her (four years out of style), Ren’s blazer, and a hastily thrown together outfit; this is one of the nicer bars in the area and these people look the part. 

Ann sighs to herself before a voice catches her attention.

“Hey,” a baritone voice says from behind. “I got your message.”

Ann twists a little to glance behind her. Ren slides into the next stool, eyes focused on her; he looks different but not. His unruly, frizzy, curls haven’t changed in the slightest and his grey eyes are still fixed and intense. But his build is more filled out and solid now and he’s lost much of the baby fat and youth to his face, the sharp lines and angles giving him a much more mature look.

Not to mention he’s dressed way more nicely than she currently is.

He laughs low in his throat, smiles a little. “Huh? Didn’t think I’d show up?”

She shrugs and turns back to her glass, tracing her finger along the rim. It’s not awkward, it’s… different.

Ren’s eyeing her up and down, from toe to head, and she twirls her hair around her finger when she notices him looking at her hair. It’s shoulder-length now because she’s missed the weight of it on her shoulders.

His head tilts to the side. “You’ve changed.”

A pause. “Evolved,” she says with a laugh, fingering her martini glass. “That sounds way better.”

There’s a moment of discomfort and she wonders if he’s changed, too. Probably not -- people like him are perfect as they are and he always has been, despite rumors and misconceptions and everything the world had thrown his way. He didn’t need to do anything to change or become a better person.

He shrugs and leans forward onto his arms. “Whatever it is, it’s a good look for you,” he says. And it’s as if he’s actually noticing the jacket she’s wearing and he pauses, the smile faltering. “Happy.”

“You do too.”

Ren goes quiet and Ann studies his face. He’s fallen into that thoughtful, contemplative, look she knows so well. Lala seems to notice the awkward quiet that’s fallen between them.

“Why don’t you two head to the back? It’s not nearly as noisy back there,” she says, jerking her head towards a curtain. “I’ll send you back another round.”

Ann follows Ren to the back and drops into a seat, sliding behind the table. She wonders, briefly, if some things are beyond repair. She’s made a lot of mistakes during and since high school and she’s glad that she’s _evolved_.

After Lala brings their fresh drinks, Ann finally speaks up, chancing a glance over at him. “I’m sorry to hear about you and Kasumi,” she says, noting the flicker of emotion across his face.

Silence.

Before she can open her mouth to apologize, he clears his throat, straightens his back, and speaks up. He segues into the confident person she’d known so well as he locks eyes with her. Firm, steady. She holds her own, though. “I think,” he starts out, eyes looking over her face. “We knew that you would always come back and I couldn’t do that to her.” If he’s nervous or anxious, he doesn’t show it.

Ann turns back to her drink, eyes a little sad. “I’m sorry,” she says. Sorry for a lot of things and she knows he’ll pick up on the underlying meaning. She means it more than he could possibly know or understand.

“Don’t be,” he replies, shaking his head. “I always understood. It hurt, but…” Ren shrugged. “I never wanted to let you go.” She notices his foot tapping under the table and even if his nerves aren’t written on his face, it’s a dead giveaway. She wonders if he notices it. 

There are so many ways for her to say _I never let you go_ , but the words are hard to get out, and she’s not sure she can make her words compelling enough for him to take her back. Its been five years, over a continent of distance, physical and emotional distance keeping them apart, but he’s still her first phone call before anyone else.

It says _everything_.

But she’s not a little girl struggling with her feelings anymore, confused by them, trying to suppress and sort them out. Ann recalls the bold statement she made on the rooftop of Shujin all those years ago when she was overwhelmed with emotions after having struggled with them for months.

“And did you?” She finally asks, focusing on him. “Ever let me go?”

He’s staring at her intently again and it looks like he’s staring right through her. It’s unnerving, especially with the silence between them, and the only sound is low voices floating back from the bar.

“No.”

Ann leans into him a little more and thinks about all of the things she wants to tell him. That she’s saved every picture she’s ever taken in a folder under his name, that when she couldn’t sleep at night she’d throw on his old jacket, even in the hundred degree weather, and it would bring her some sense of peace. Wants to tell him that she never stopped loving him, not in the slightest or any less, but she wanted -- and needed -- to find herself before they could actually work on that forever thing she always said she wanted with him.

Instead, Ann leans in to capture his lips in a soft whisper of a kiss, until his hand comes up to grab the back of her neck and he deepens the kiss. Ann’s eyes flutter shut when his hand comes to rest at her waist and he shifts closer to her, closing any space in between them, 

It’s a sense of safety and familiarity Ann hasn’t felt since she left all those years ago, something she’d been longing to have more than she realized. Her heart’s pounding in her chest, stomach fluttering, and it feels like home.

Ann finally pulls back to breathe and he rests his forehead against hers, his fingers gently toying with her short blonde locks.

(She knows she ought to go back to spend time with her parents, but it doesn’t take much convincing to just leave with him, and it’s way better than sleeping in his bed is way better than sleeping alone in her old bedroom.)

xx

A few years pass and she spots Lucas in a cafe. It’s not difficult to recognize him.

She’s changed, again. Her hair is at its former length, but she’s traded twintails for trying out various long hairstyles; today it’s a fishtail braid draped over her shoulder. She’s back to her fashionable self, nice clothes and shoes, perfectly suited for high-end photography behind and in front of the camera. He looks roughly the same, tall and handsome as ever, and he turns as if he can feel her gaze.

Lucas nods and gives her an up and down look, seemingly sizing her up. Smiles in approval. She gives him a small smile back and nods. It’s a silent _I’m sorry_ mixed with <>I forgive you and she’s grateful for the closure.

Ren appears from behind and hands her a coffee cup, tilting his head to the side, looking like a curious cat. “Who was that?”

Ann curls into his side and reaches down for his hand and laces their fingers together and feels his cold band against her hand.

“An old friend,” she answers simply, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

It’s not a lie in the slightest, but he doesn’t matter anyway, because none of that mattered. 

Everything was just practice so they could wind up here.


End file.
